


I Am An Avenger

by miss_music666 (orphan_account)



Series: Pi Verse [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/miss_music666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[[Permanent Hiatus]]</p><p>On Earth-314, Nick Fury decides to put together a Task Force, a Task Force code named The Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Agent 741917

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 741917 is a god soldier, but god does he hate waiting for new missions.

"Even though I know  
I don't want to know  
Yeah I guess I know  
I just hate how it sounds"  
-"One Thing" by Finger Eleven

The rooms - well, cells - the agents of SHIELD stay in, in their down time (a.k.a. when not training or on a mission) were bleak and boring. The beds were stainless steel and bolted to the floors, and the walls were plain grey concrete. At lights out, the lights just turn off, leaving the barracks in an all encompassing cold that the thin, worn sheet-like blankets couldn’t keep out.

Agent 741917 sat on his bed, staring at the door, wanting and wanting for a commanding officer to walk through the door and give him a mission.

When Colonel Nick Furry walked through the grey door, he quite instantly regretted his wants.

Out of the handful of people Agent 741917 has actually talked to, he hated exactly two of them, the kitchen attendant that always forgot he was allergic to kiwi, and Colonel Nick Furry.

“Agent 741917, to attention!” Furry barked, getting into the room, making room for someone behind him. The blond man was slimmer than Agent 741917, but he supposed he probably could have posed as his old brother, or cousin, so his first thought was that maybe he was going undercover with the other man.

“Permission to talk freely?” Agent 741917 asked, because as much as he _hated_ Colonel Nick Furry, he respected him, and he knew the feeling was returned.

“Always, soldier,” Furry said, grabbing the other man’s shoulder and pushing him towards 741917. “This is Storm. You’ll be working with him on your next mission.” He pushed a folder to 741917 with the word “CONFIDENTIAL” stamped across the front, in large, red, block letters. “Off field, he’s your commanding officer. To the appearance of those around you, though? You’re in charge.”

Agent 741917 furrowed his brow. What peculiar orders. “Why so?”

“You’re sort of going under cover, but not exactly. The file will explain it better than I could.” Furry looked around the barracks, he seemed displeased, and 741917 discreetly smoothed a wrinkle on his bedspread. “You’re going to move,” at the soldier’s look of confusion, he explained, “You’ll probably be having company, so this will not be befitting. You’ll be staying with Storm, at an off base apartment.”

Storm, still behind Furry, rolled his eyes, and 741917 internally winced. He’s seen members of this training squad get yelled at for hours for displaying such behavior, and then get sent off to isolation. But Furry didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Pack,” seeing 741917’s opened mouth, he clarified, “Everything. Storm is going to take you shopping for civilian clothes.”

Π

Agent 741917 knew what shopping was. Of course he did, Agents of SHIELD needed to be able to blend in at a moments notice.

This, what Storm was doing, wasn’t shopping. It was a military mission. It had to be, there was way too much pain for there not to be. The measuring, the carrying, the walking, slowly and tediously, through the isles...All the while being surrounded by people like which 741917 had never seen, as 741917 had never had an under cover mission as a civilian.

The woman were vapid, merely walking around the stores, throwing things at whatever demoralized man was following her around. They were nothing like the strong, independent, _fierce_ , women that 741917 had seen in the field. That 741917 had copulated with, for the sake of another generation of perfect soldiers.

Then men seemed one of two things (sometimes even a...worrying combination of both). Most of the men seemed, well, _homosexual_. Not that 741917 had a problem with that, but he was quite worried that one of their commanding officers might see, and that they’d be sent to the rebooting cell. The other small portion of men were the demoralized of before, walking behind their female counterparts with dead eyes and sloping shoulders.

In most of the stores they entered, the clerks gave 741917 bad looks, and when he asked Storm (who got appreciating looks from females and males alike, with his low-slung boot-cut artfully ripped and faded jeans, and blue v-neck t-shirt) he said that he wasn’t dressed adequately. 741917 found nothing wrong with his SHIELD regulated sweatpants and plain white tee.

“Sir, who regulates what they wear?” 741917 asked, and at Storm’s look of, “what are you rambling about?” he continued, “Don’t their superiors have anything to say about how they dress in undercover operations?”

“What?” Storm looked genuinely confused.

“Well I have you picking out my civilian clothes, who picks theirs?”

Storm shook his head, and rolled his eyes, “This is a civilian store, 741917, not a military store, these are civilians.”

Civilians? 741917 looked around, they looked like civilians, so maybe Storm was right. “Why are we at this store, again?”

“Formal clothes. You’ll need them soon. Furry wants you to help him recruit some engineer kid.” He walked over to one of the men working at the counter, “I need you to help me, with this guy,” here he pointed to 741917, “He needs at least three suits, five dress shirts, and an over coat.”

The older man looked at 741917, took in his broad shoulders and long legs. “The more cloth we use the more expensive it is, you know.”

Storm looked at him with unimpressed eyes. “Yes, use a joke to hid the fact you want him to pound you into your mattress. Now fit him.”

They ended up buying him four suits based on varying altitudes of “fancy occasion,” as Johnny put it. They’d boughten a navy blue three piece, two sets of matching suit jacket-dress pants combo (one black, with gold pinstripes, the other, again, blue) and a vest (that didn’t match the previous three piece, but was still navy blue. 741917 didn’t understand, and all Johnny said was that it was a “fashion thing” and to not “worry his little head” about it.) with matching dress pants. Also bought at the suit store were ten dress shirts that matched at least one of the ensembles, if not more. They’d also gotten dress shoes, with silky feeling black socks that weren’t silk.

After that they’d gotten everyday clothes, and something Storm had called PJ pants (741917 was told they were to be slept in, and that a shirt was optional, but recommended in the winter). The “everyday clothes” mostly consisted of denim jeans and t-shirts. Storm had insisted on two “hoodies” for when he was running in the morning, and looked fairly cross when 741917 said he didn’t get cold.

At Luncheon, Johnny must have noticed his charge looking in the window of the art store across from where they were eating (at a cute little pie shop, that 741917 decided he’d have to come back to), for he had disappeared for a few moments, and came back with a large wooden box (which was really a trunk, but, again, when 741917 insisted as such, Storm got the cross look) filled with paints, charcoals, pastels, sketching pads, pencils, and inking pens.

Π

“So, this is the living room,” Storm said, keeping the door wide open so 741917 could pull the bags into the new apartment.

The room was open, with one wall consisting entirely of window, that opened out, into the front street. In the right corner, on the wall of window, was a plasma screen television, with what appeared to be surround sound. Floating, parallel to the television was a large, over stuffed, blue suede couch. Framing the couch was a matching recliner, and, against the wall, a matching love-seat.

“That’s my room,” Storm said, pointing to the first of the matching doors to the left, “and the other one’s yours. That’s the kitchen,” he pointed towards the section to the right, enclosed in one straight, and one diagonal half-wall. “I took the liberty of deciding the bay window would be where we eat, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, let’s get something straight,” Storm said, exasperation coloring his face, “I may be your commanding officer, but, well, we’re roommates, so, I say we should be friends. Call me Johnny.”

741917 raised an eyebrow, “Okay...Johnny, I’m gonna go put this stuff in my barracks.”

“Room. In your room.” St-Johnny got that look he’d (seemingly) randomly gotten on his face while they were shopping. It looked sort of like a mixture of pity and an angered sadness.

741917 shook his head, ridding himself of his previous thoughts, as they were preposterous. There was no reason for Johnny to _pity_ him, he was the best soldier at SHEILD and had never been sent to isolation for insubordinate behavior. He lugged his bags of clothes and other recently bought items to the door that designated his bar-his room.

Now, it’s not that he expected something _exactly_ like barracks back at the SHIELD headquarters, it’s just that he wasn’t expecting something so _vastly_ different.

The plush, dark blue shag rug was much more comforting on his feet than the concrete floor of the old barracks. The light-blue (both matching and off-setting to the carpet) of the wall paint was aesthetically pleasing, as was the contrast of the bright red comforter, on the bed. The bed itself was massive, the likes of which Cap had never seen before. On the wall opposite the bed’s wrought iron head board, was again, a massive plasma screen television, next to which was what 741917 assumed was the door to the closet.

He opened the door and dropped the bags in, deciding to take a nap, before they had to leave for the party.


	2. Man of Fe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you asked him, Tony Stark would say it all really started when he was four years and four months old

"But whatever I have gettin' myself into  
maybe has been slicing inches from my waist  
It's my fist vs. the bottle  
(and thank god you weren't there...)  
And that's how bad could this hurt  
or against I won't feel a thing"  
\- "Ghost Man on Third" by Taking Back Sunday

 

If you asked him, Tony Stark would say it all really started when he was four years and four months old. That was when his parents discovered he was a genius.

To this day Tony resents that damn doctor.

His father proceeded to send him to the most prestigious boarding school on the planet. It happened to be on the opposite side of the world.

It was a lot for someone not even five years old to handle.

π

The cave they kept him in at night was usually so dark he couldn’t see his hand a foot in front of his face.

So when whoever came in at night, and tied him down, and touched him, he could never tell who it was.

π

His mother dies when he’s eleven. His father just looks at him and tells the doctors that yes, he understands they did everything they could; and from that moment on Tony has a new person to hate, along with his therapist and that damn doctor.

Jarvis tells him it’s okay to cry, but Tony doesn’t listen.

If some of the water falling down his face is salty and warmer than the rest? Well, no one’s there to call him on it.

π

When he graduates from MIT, his father tells him he loves him for the first time since cancer took his mother.

Tony, who’s already a little tipsy, decides that it’s the perfect time to tell him Uncle Obi touched him in the bad place when he was little.

Howard, who has always had a temper, pretty much destroys the den (including the obnoxiously overpriced couch that Maria had picked out when Tony was three) and summarily calls Tony a liar; tell him that his best friend since childhood would never do that to his child.

Tony’s never felt so betrayed.

Howard sends him to demonstrate the Jericho the next day.

π

“Ah, Nick Fury, trying again to schmooze me into handing over the Iron Man blueprints?” Tony Stark barbed. Behind the Colonel were two blond men, one of which Tony felt like he should be able to place but couldn’t. “Because if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: It’s not going to happen.”

“No, Stark, your father’s made it clear you won’t do that.” Tony raised an eyebrow, and wondered why the fuck his father would care.

“So what do you want?” Tony asks, looking at the blond he knows he should be able to place but can’t. “Money? Sex? My immortal soul?”

“No. Something more important,” Fury says, and Tony runs his tongue over his teeth, so he won’t say something stupid. But _seriously_ , why can’t he place bondie’s _face_?!

“Mhmm, and what would that be?” Tony risks a glance at the taller blond, the one he doesn’t know, and wonders how Fury always got such fantastic eye candy.

Fury smirks and nods, obviously this means something to the Tall One, as he reaches into his pocket, grabs a folder, and hands it to Tony. Tony takes it, but just before he opens it, Fury shakes his head. “I want your body guard.”

Tony furrows his brow, “You want Happy? Wh-Oh! You want Iron Man.”

“Indeed, Stark. The information is in the file. Look over it, talk to whoever’s in the armor,” Fury says, reaching up a scarred hand to brush through his grey hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have people to schmooze; for money, sex, and their immortal souls.” He nods to his pets, and Recognizable One nods back, and heads over to where Pepper is leaning on the wall, talking to Happy. Tall One looks at Tony for a moment, and Tony feels as if his deep, blue eyes were touching his soul.

“Tony Stark,” he introduced, holding out a hand, and putting on his most understated flity tone. “And you are?”

“Agent-” he stops for a moment, then look to the back of Recognizable One’s head, as if his name were written there. “Agent 741917,” he finally said, taking Tony’s hand.

“Oh,” Tony said, slightly disappointed. One of those, so no happy-fun-orgasm times. “Do you have a name?”

Agent 741917 looks at him for a moment. “Um...Captain America?” Tony looks at him blankly, for like, five full seconds, then looks down to the folder. It was a standard manilla folder, with he words “CONFIDENTIAL-TF:091963” stamped in red ink across the front.

He flips it open, the first page a cover page, basically summarizing what Task Force 091963 was, what their goals were as a team, and why Fury thought they were needed. The next page was a page on someone named “Johnny Storm” that Tony skipped over, as most of it was marked classified. The third page had a picture of Agent 741917 in the upper corner, so Tony looked through the page.

It was basically a military performance record, showing everything from when his first tooth fell out, to what time he had his first wet dream. “Looks like you’re a regular John Doe.” Tony said, “If you showed up in the Hudson, no one’d ever know who you were.”

The SHEILD agent looked bewildered for a moment, before saying, as factually as a robot, “That was a reference to the Mafia throwing bodies they didn’t want found being thrown into the Hudson River.”

Tony stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “That is was. Well,” he concluded, closing the file with a snap of paper on paper, “I’ll just have to come up with a name for you.”

π

It turns out that Agent 741917 doesn’t like the following names:

Bob, Frank, Greg, Jeff, Geoff (just because it’s spelt different, doesn’t make it sound any better, apparently), Godfrey, Craig, Ken (oh c’mon, Tony had to try), Blaine (not as good a reference as Ken, but Tony wouldn’t let it go), Phil, or Michael.

They settled on Steven.

π

By the time they settle on a first name, the party is winding down, and Tony is falling a little bit in love with Steve. He’s naïve, but not, because he’s killed people. He’s strong willed, but willing to try to understand your side. Not to mention he’s hot as all holy fuck.

It’s when the Recognizable One comes over to retrieve Steve that Tony realized who he is.

“Johnny Storm! I haven’t seen you since...Boarding school!” Tony exclaims, and Storm looks at him like he’s stupid. Which isn’t really a look Tony gets all that much (unless you count Pepper and his father, which he doesn’t, for two very different reasons). “What happened to you?”

“My parents died, and Sue let me drop out of that hell hole,” Storm says, “Then I got recruited for SHIELD.”

“How is Sue? And, oh, what was her husbands name? Reed! And your boyfriend, Ben?” Tony asks, genuinely curious.

Storm’s face, which, back in school, was as emotional as a teenage girl’s, is now as indecipherable as the Iron Man mask, but grief seems to fly over it, and Tony feels like he shouldn’t have asked. “Sue is...She got sick, so did Reed, and B-Ben, but they’re getting better.”

“Well, that’s good. That they’re get-”

“Look, Stark, we have to leave.” Storm seems agitated, and he grabs Steve’s forearm.

Tony frowns, and looks at Steve’s face which seems to be on this side of shock. So Storm’s little outburst isn’t a normal thing. “Okay. I’ll have my answer on this,” he holds up the manilla folder, “for Fury by tomorrow, so why don’t you all meet me for a lunch meeting. At my office.”

Storm just nods, and Steve allows him to pull him along.

π

Tony decides, for the first time since he was perfecting the armor, to go for a joy ride. He floats on his back for a while, going over the scans he did of the manilla folder.

π

He’s sitting behind his desk, eating a slice of blueberry pie, when Fury, Steve, and Storm come into the office.

He puts his napkin to his mouth, and stands, “Please, come, sit. Samecca?” he says, clicking on the intercom button (one of these days he’ll remember who is who, and who works when). “Three more pieces of pie.”

When Samecca comes in with three more pieces of pie (she glared at Tony, who grimaced, and shrugged his shoulders. She left in a huff.), Tony looks to Steve, who’s smile isn’t so much a smile as a beam of light.

After a while, Tony decides to break the idle chit-chat. “I’ve decided to join you all,” Tony says, “Well to let you use Iron Man as you see fit, anyway.”

Steve looks from Tony then back to Fury. “Good,” the colonel says, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Will you be needing him anytime soon?” Tony says, angered by the slight desperation he leaked into his voice.

“We will be sure to call you, Mister Stark,” Fury said, then, taking the last bite of his pie, he placed his plate on Tony’s desk. “Boys, see you tomorrow.”

π

Tony ended up skipping out of meetings for the rest of the afternoon, and spending it was Steve. Storm had left early on, simply saying it was for private matters, and that he’d see Steve later that afternoon.

They mostly walked around the city, and Tony felt bad when Steve asked where his body guard was, and he had to lie. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Steve, it’s just...he didn’t trust Steve. But he wanted to, which was completely new the land of Tony Stark

They ended the evening at Altman’s Pies. Tony loved the coffee and the pie (the cute, blatantly gay blond skater-punk behind the counter didn’t exactly stop Tony from going there either).

Steve sat across from him, smiling and sipping his coffee. “So, how does a guy end up where you are?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re high up in the company, right? Your father’s the owner, but that can’t be the only reason why? SI is a serious company, they can’t get away with stuff like that.”

Tony smiled, not the first genuine one of the afternoon. “You’re the only one that seems to think that.”

“Well, how would you have lasted this long without the Board of Directors blowing a tizzy without you having a modicum of talent?” Steve asked, shoving a bite of pie in his mouth with an endearing, appreciative little moan.

“True.” Tony swirled his fork in the whipped cream that comes with the pie, that he doesn’t eat. “I’m sort of...a genius. It was discovered at a young age...I skipped a lot of grades, graduated high school at twelve, graduated from MIT at fifteen with a PhD in engineering and physics.”

“Wow, that’s...impressive.” Steve said, leaning back in the cherry-red booth. His leg brushed against Tony’s under the table. Tony suppressed a shiver.

Tony took another bite into his pie, and counted the day as a win.


	3. Tweaking Quirks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy has never really felt special.

"So come and talk to me  
On my computer screen  
The best years of our lives  
Aren't as easy as they seem  
But one day we'll look back  
And then we'll have to laugh  
They used to call us names  
Now they want our autographs"  
-"The Click" by Good Charlotte

Teddy has never really felt special.

When he was little, Teddy’s mom would tell him he was important, in ways that he’d never know. He still doesn’t know what she means.

It wasn’t until he was about thirteen that he felt he had a purpose.

Π

The first time he tried to get his ear pierced, the needle broke on his skin.

Π

> justduckingaround (14:55) i cnt st& d kdz @schl (justduckingaround is mobile)  
> whichwitch (14:56) tends to happen when you learn through public schooling. (whichwitch is mobile)  
> justduckingaround (14:57) sry lil ms prp schl! :P (justduckingaround is mobile)  
> whichwitch (15:00) we also learn to spell, in private school. which i’m still in, right now. i’m actually taking a test. (whichwitch is mobile)  
> justduckingaround (15:01) sry t2ul? d pi shp? (justduckingaround is mobile)  
> whichwitch (15:05) sure. i’ll be there in about thirty minutes. (whichwitch is mobile)

Π

The first real best friend Teddy has doesn’t even go to his school.

Π

“So what? You helped him with a few cons, and now you’re in love?” Billy asked, incredulous. He’s sitting at his usual place at the counter, eating his usual slice of blueberry pie.

“Billy, you don’t understand! He’s just - he’s amazing!” Billy gave him a look like he did when Teddy told him he wanted to become a singer. At the time Teddy thought it meant “What the hell, Teddy, you’re tone deaf” but now he’s not sure. “I think he might like me back, too.”

Billy took another bite of pie, and swallowed slowly. “Teddy. I-”

“Billy, c’mon! You don’t even know him, so don’t-”

“Teddy! All I was going to say is that I think you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Π

The first time Teddy is in love, he’s not.

Π

“Did you hear? Oh my god, you didn’t? Teddy Altman is totally gay!”

“No way! He’s on the football team! He’s Greg Norris’s right hand man, and Greg Norris is a total homophobe!”

“No, it’s true! Mary-Beth saw him chatting up some dark haired guy at the Pie Shop.”

“Oh, fuck Mary-Beth, she thinks everyone’s gay!”

Teddy heard the two girls giggle and move onto more titillating gossip.

Π

The first time Teddy jerked off to someone he knew, it was a boy.

Π

“C’mon, Ted, it’ll be fun!” Greg said, his wide, beaming grin taking over his face.

Teddy thought about it for a minute. Conning a crowd into paying twenty-dollars for a Spiderman autograph is one thing, but breaking into a liquor store? “I dunno, Greg. That’s heavy shit.”

“Ted! We’ve conned little kids out of their lunch money, but you’re afraid to break into one lousy store?”

“Can’t we just buy the alcohol? I’ll take my ma’s i.d. and I can turn into her. It’s not like we’re short on cash,” Teddy argued plaintively. He really didn’t want to do this.

Greg rolled his eyes and looked down at his watch. “Whatever, I need to get home.”

“Greg-”

“Bye, Ted.”

Π

The first time Teddy committed a felony, it was for all the wrong reasons.

Π

> whichwitch (16:34) Hey, Teddy.  
> whichwitch (16:42) Ted?  
> whichwitch (17:03) Are you there?  
> whichwitch (17:47) Ted? Dude? Is AIM lying to me again?  
> whichwitch (19:16) Dude, if you don’t want to talk to me, just say so.  
> whichwitch (20:26) Are you mad at me, or something?  
> whichwitch (21:21) Look, whatever it is, can we just talk abut it?  
> whichwitch (22:59) TEDDY!?  
> whichwitch (23:52) WHAT THE FUCK, TED WHY WON’T YOU ANSWER MY CALLS!?  
> justduckingaround (23:52) chll mn! jeez!  
> whichwitch (23:53) What the fuck, dude, I’ve been trying to contact you since 4 this afternoon!  
> justduckingaround (23:54) iv bn bzy!  
> whichwitch (23:54) With what!?  
> justduckingaround (23:55) me n Greg rbbd a lqr stoR  
> whichwitch (23:56) WHAT!? YOU ROBBED A FUCKING LIQUOR STORE?!?!?!  
> justduckingaround (23:57) chll. nbd.  
> (whichwitch has signed out)  
> justduckingaround (23:57) mn! I hd somit 2 tel u!  
> justduckingaround (23:58) BILLY?!?

Π

The first time Teddy met someone famous, he was getting arrested by them.

Π

Here’s the story of how Teddy and Greg got caught:

They’d successfully walked into the liquor store, with Teddy posing as the owner. The clerk behind the counter nodded and had given him a questioning look about Greg. As the owner of the store is female, Teddy just gave him a look that implied “I’m using my office to have sex with a minor.”

The clerk just looked more confused.

Greg led Teddy to the office, and this is where the first of many problems was discovered. The door was pass-code protected. Teddy let out a quick “Shit!” that sounded distinctly un-feminine. He shot a quick look to the clerk who seemed to be thinking intently about the situation.

Teddy shot Greg a concerned look, but Greg seems just as perturbed by the situation. He looks back the clerk and _oh shit!_

“Yes, officer? I think there is a mutant trying to rob me.”

The situation only got worse as Greg whipped out a gun. “Greg! What the fuck, man! Put that shit away!” Teddy quickly turns back into himself, and reached out to Greg, trying to take the gun.

Greg turned to Teddy, gun raised high, “Screw you, Altman, I’m not going to fucking juvie!”

“Greg!” Teddy shifted slightly forward, hand reaching for the gun.

Gun shots are louder in real life, than they are on T.V.

Teddy arched backward, grabbing onto his stomach as he fell, limp into strong arms.

Π

The first time Teddy joins a team that he actually feels like he fits into, it’s with a socially retarded genetically altered super-soldier and a victim of child molestation.

Π

“Dude, I’m calling bullshit!” Billy said and curled one hand tight around his coffee mug.

“No, Bill, in all seriousness, I almost died, and fucking Captain A-fucking-merica saved me,” Teddy said, grinning, as he pressed a glass onto the leaver for Diet Coke.

“I believe you almost died, what I don’t believe is that you _arched_ into _Captain America’s_ arms as _Iron Man_ stood idly by.”

“Why come?”

“ _How_ come, and because you are too bad of a friend to deserve falling into the glorious arms of Captain America.” Teddy glared at his friend, who just smirked back, while taking a bite of his pie. “What I can’t get over is how you got caught because you were pretending to get a quick-y from the guy you liked, and the owner of the liquor store was gay.”

As the irony was not beyond Teddy, he quickly brought the glass of Diet Coke to table three. The door as it jingled on his way back to the counter, so he gave it a fleeting look. He grinned wide, and sat next to Billy at the counter.

“So if I bet you ten dollars right now, that Cap and Iron Man said they’d check up on me today, and were to arrive any minute, you’d take the bet.”

“Dude, why would you just give me ten dollars when you _know_ you’re _lying_?”

“Bill, give me a Hamilton,” Teddy said, tapping Billy on the shoulder.

“What? No, not until-” Billy turned around and blinked rapidly. “Dammit!” Billy pulled up his over long button-up shirt, to reach into his pocket as Cap came to stand, hands clasped behind his back, in front of Teddy.

“How are you doing, Mister Altman?” Iron Man’s robotic voice asked, coming up to stand by his partner. Even though Iron Man was in a metal suit, he seemed more at ease than Cap.

“Dude, call me Teddy, and I’m fine!” Teddy raised his t-shirt to show off his unmarred six pack. “It’s all healed and it didn’t even scar. The pro of being a freak, right?”

Iron Man gave a small chuckle and Cap grimaced.

“You’re not a freak, Teddy!” Billy said, elbowing him in the side and rolling his eyes, he slipped the bill into Teddy’s apron’s pocket. Iron Man looked to Billy for a moment, but then looked back to Teddy.

“We’re actually here for a reason besides checking up on you,” Cap said, taking a seat next to Teddy, who stood.

“I have to get back to work, so…” Teddy left it open ended, for them to fill with something of their own convenience.

“We can chat between rounds,” Iron Man said standing next to Cap at the counter.

“Okay.” Teddy quickly went to check on a few tables he hadn’t yet consulted, or hadn’t check in with recently, and after giving a few quick refills, he returned to his place behind the counter

“Our Colonel, the man who signs our paychecks and put our team together, is greatly intrigued by your talents, Teddy,” Cap said.

“Oh? Why’s that?” He asked, and wordlessly offered him some coffee.

Cap nodded to the coffee before shooting a transitory glance at Iron Man, who answered Teddy’s question. “He wants you to join us.”

“J-Join you?” Billy asks, which is good, as Teddy is speechless. “What do you mean, join you?”

“Join our team. Become an Avenger,” Cap said, trying to smile. He mostly looked in pain.

Teddy gaped, like a fish out of water. Billy looked horror struck. “What would that entail?! Would he have to leave with you? Would I - we - _his mother_ ever see him again?”

“What, of course! He’d have to finish high school; all this would mean is surrendering his Friday and Saturday nights, and answer his communicator whenever the Colonel calls,” Iron Man explained gently, staring again at Billy. Teddy made the fleeting wish that he could see behind the mask to gauge what sort of look his friend was receiving.

“I-” Teddy started, squeezing and squeezing his hands into fists.

“He’ll have to think about it,” Billy interrupted, staring into Teddy’s eyes.

Teddy couldn’t tear his eyes away as he shook his head. “No, I won’t. I’ll do it.”

Billy’s chin quavered, and he tore brusquely from the restaurant.


	4. Does Whatever A Spider Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker is a little Paranoid sometimes, going so far as thinking superheroes couldn’t defend themselves.

"I wanna stand up, I wanna let go  
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't  
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men  
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand  
Another head aches, another heart breaks  
I am so much older than I can take"  
\- "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers

 

June 9, 2010  
Mood: Aggravated  
Subject: **Life Sucks, Then You Die**  
Science class was boring today. AP Physics will only go so far into collegial topics, after all. Math, AP Calculas, was a joke, as Mister Walker wasn’t there, and the sub was so below sub-par, that even AP students acted like kindergartners with a temporary teacher.

The only up of the day was that Mary Jane’s hair was up, because of the heat. Pulled tight into a high bun on the top of her head, wisps of red hair falling from the scrunchie.

But then, Mary Jane’s boyfriend, Trevor, really ruined it all by telling his friends very loudly in the shower after gym that the purple mark on the back of MJ’s neck was a hickey, courtesy of him.

The Green Goblin showed up again today, right in Time Square. He caused a lot of damage to one of the buildings, but luckily it was abandoned, so no real harm done. Maybe it was called the Baxter Building? I’m not sure.

Harry was pissed at his dad today. Like, royally. So bad, that he took it out on me. I don’t get it, one day I’m his metaphoric shoulder to cry on (because Harry would never cry in front of anyone) the next he takes out all his anger at me. It’s nonsense.

Oh well, life goes on.

Tags: Green Goblin, Harry, MJ, School

∏

June 11, 2010  
Mood: Cranky  
Subject: **Almost Hurts Too Much to Type**  
I didn’t write anything in this thing yesterday because I didn’t go to school and sorta passed out when I did get home.

I was late to school, so I was swinging to school via web. About half way there, some guys with SHIELD badges popped up outa no where. The leader of the three, a guy calling himself Captain America (if he’s really a captain in the military, I have no clue, he didn’t seem stuck up enough to be, though), asked me if I wanted to join them. His second in command was what appeared to be either a cyborg, or a man in a robotics suit. It (he?) had too much, well, life in him to simply be a robot. I vaguely remember those two breaking up some robbery in Queens, but the third seemed completely new. Hulkling, I think? After the Hulk? Maybe he’s his father. (He was green, after all.)

I told them no. I wasn’t going to hurt someone like I did to Uncle Ben.

I miss Uncle Ben.

Anyway, by the time I could get away from them (with the promise that I’d meet them on Sunday, atop the Baxter Building), school was well into the first class. I decided that I would rather not go in and get yelled at by Aunt May, then go to school and get yelled at by Aunt May and Principal Shorts.

I half feel this was a mistake and half feel it was for the better. Some shlub calling himself “Sandman” was making a ruckus on the Brooklyn Bridge. I got tossed into five cars, one more that was moving, and Sandman’s punches felt more like concrete hitting me in the face than flesh.

Harry’s calling me, so this is gonna get cut short.

Tags: Aunt May, Avengers, Harry, Sandman, Trouble’s My Middle Name, Uncle Ben

∏

June 12, 2010  
Mood: Happy  
Subject: **Aunt May’s Too Good to Me**  
Aunt May woke me up with chocolate chip pancakes in bed, this morning. She said she felt like I had been stressed lately and wanted to cheer me up.

I’ve been neglecting her lately.

I asked her if we could move this to the kitchen. We did, and we sat and just talked while we ate. After breakfast I cleaned my room, the attic and the garage, just like she’d been asking me.

When I was taking out the garbage, MJ came running out of her house, crying. She sat on the tree swing we used to play on as little kids. I slowly went over to her, being as loud as possible, so she could tell me to back off if she wanted me to.

I asked he what was wrong and she went into a teary rant about her alcoholic father and controlling mother. I pet her hair and held her close all the way through. She sniffed a thank you and told me she had better be heading inside, because she had to write an essay for Monday.

I know it sounds bad, but it made my week.

Harry came over in the late afternoon. We sat in my room, listening to music and talking. He asked me if I was a superhero, what power would I want, because he wanted to fly. I told him flying sounded fun, and I felt horrible for not telling him, but I knew he would be mad at me for not telling him before.

My life, the double edged sword.

Our topic moved away from that, though, onto more...not happy, but less saddening topics.

I’ve got to go out on patrol, hopefully nothing too eventful happens.

Tags: Aunt May, Harry, MJ

∏

Spider-Man flicked out some webbing, connecting it with the building across from the Baxter Building, which was taller. He let go once he was flying above his designated landing spot and flipped to a landing just about dead center of the roof.

“Spider-Man. I thought you wouldn’t show,” said the electronic voice of Iron Man.

Peter turned around to face the trio. They’d added a fourth member. A tall (though not as tall as Captain America) blond man in a blue material that looked too thick to be simple spandex. For some reason he looked very familiar.

“You’re Johnny Storm - The Human Torch. I remember when you’re plane crashed,” Peter said, his tactless mouth not connecting with his brain screaming at him. Storm’s family had disappeared that day.

Storm’s face didn’t change, he only nodded. Peter’s brain muttered “heartless”, but he felt bad after, every person deals with pain in their own way.

“So what do you guys want, anyway?”

Captain America stepped forward, offering a manilla envelope with the SHIELD emblem and the word “CONFIDENTIAL” stamped on the front. “I want you to read this. It’s everything you need to know.”

Peter didn’t take the envelope. “I don’t want to be part of your little club. Mostly because, one: I don’t know any of you; two: Robots creep me out; three: I don’t want to work with someone who could go ‘HULK, SMASH!’ at any minute and beat my head in!

Iron Man, Peter could somehow tell, was rolling his eyes. “I’m not a robot! Jesus!”

“And I am in now way related to Hulk...I just...borrowed his name,” Hulking said. “Anyway...I call BS! Those aren’t your real reasons.”

“People...get hurt when they spend too much time around me,” Peter admitted, lowering his gaze.

Hulkling rose an eyebrow. “Dude. I know all about Spider-Man, and you’ve never been on a team before, how can you know that?”

Uncle Ben dying in his arms. Harry being swung around by Doctor Octopus. Aunt May worrying all night because she’d heard him sneak out.

“I just know. My personal life. Didn’t anyone ever tell you ‘no’ means ‘no’?” Peter could have sworn Captain America’s eyes fleeted to Iron Man, but it happened too fast to tell. “I only showed up because I was raised better than to leave someone hanging. I mean, I’ve barely even heard of you guys.”

“How have you barely heard of Iron Man and Captain America?” Hulkling asked, genuinely confused.

Peter rolled his eyes, “I forgot, you didn’t know I live on Mars, sorry. I have more important things to do with my time than read the Daily Bugle: Like saving people’s lives and passing classes.”

They all seemed taken aback. Good. Then they won’t want Peter on their stupid little team. He wished he wasn’t cursed.

Captain America pushed the paper into Peter’s hand. “Think about it, please.”

Peter looked from Captain America (who looked hopeful) to Iron Man (who he couldn’t read, for obvious reasons) to Hulkling (who looked despondent) and finally to Johnny Storm.

“I’ll think about it.”

∏

That night, Peter was so distracted by the earnest faces of the Avengers that he let a mugger fall through his grips. The mugger takes off running, and Peter just doesn’t seem to be able to get a one up on him, until he’s edging on Hell’s Kitchen.

Peter doesn’t feel like stepping on Daredevil’s toes tonight, but doesn’t want the mugger to get away, either.

Looks like Daredevil and him are going to argue territory again.

To Peter, it seems like the millisecond that he casts a web in Hell’s Kitchen, DD knows. It’s irritating.

“Spider-Man. I thought we had this discussion six months ago,” Daredevil growls, after Peter has gotten the mugger webbed to a telephone pole.

“Sorry, Red, followed him from Central Park.” To tell the truth, Daredevil kinda scared the living crap outa Peter.

Daredevil stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “You’re usually more proficient than that.” Peter hated showing his age in costume, but did just then. Daredevil makes him feel so young.

Spider-Man looked down. “I-I was distracted.”

“How?”

Peter looked up to Daredevil’s cowl-covered face. “These military jerks - Captain America, Iron Man, Hulkling, and Johnny Storm - asked me to join their magic tree house.”

Peter liked to think of him and Daredevil as...not friends, but at least associates, maybe colleagues. They’d teamed up last year, when they first meet, when a killer escaped from Ryker’s. “Maybe you should join them.”

“Why?” Peter knew it was a bad idea. “Nothing good comes from me being near other people.”

“Well, what about me?” Daredevil objected, “We’ve teamed up before.”

Peter smirked behind the mask, “That’s because you’re my guardian devil. Mine and Hell’s Kitchen’s.” Though Peter had said it mockingly, it was true, in a way. Whenever real stuff started to go down with Spider-Man, Daredevil was hot on his tail, helping out.

Daredevil shook his head. “Spider-Man, you need them. You’re a social creature. You need to stop letting this fear of hurting people from letting you do what you need to do. Besides, if they are how you say, they need you to stop them from taking themselves too seriously.”

Peter thought about it for a second. Maybe Red was right. Before, he wasn’t going to think about it at all, but maybe. Yeah, he’d actually think about it now.

“Okay, Red. I’ll think about it.”

Daredevil didn’t respond, only tipped his head sideways. Peter knew it meant he was listening to something. “You have to go?” Again, Daredevil didn’t respond, but this time dove off the side of the building.

∏

June 15, 2010  
Mood: Worried  
Subject: **I Don’t Know How This Will Turn Out**  
I ran into Daredevil on my patrol after my meeting with the Avengers. He convinced me...well, made me actually think about it. It meaning their offer. The offer to join them.

I just got back from telling them I would...


	5. Ass Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy is horrid at keeping secrets. It’s something generally accepted by everyone he knows.

”You know that you have seen this all before  
Tremble, little lion man,  
You'll never settle any of your scores  
Your grace is wasted in your face,  
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck  
Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”  
-”Little Lion Man” by Mumford and Sons

 

Billy is horrid at keeping secrets. It’s something generally accepted by everyone he knows.

Which is why, to this day, it still surprises Billy that Teddy doesn’t know that Billy Kaplan was born Billy Maximoff. That Teddy doesn’t know that “Kaplan” was a name his mom, the Scarlet Witch, made up to escape the judgement the mutant community passed on her after she created Billy and Tommy.

Sometimes, Billy just wanted to tell Teddy. Just wanted to sit him down with a blueberry pie, some coffee, the cushy chairs in Billy’s room, and just say, “Hey, dude, I’m kind of a mutant, and my powers should be arriving any day now. Oh, and my real name is William Maximoff, son of Scarlet Witch, who created me with chaos magics, and grandson of the villain Magneto.”

Because that would go over well.

But then Teddy joined the Avengers.

The one thing his mother had drilled into their head from a young age, is that Billy and Tommy couldn’t interact with the Capes ‘n’ Tights sect, in the off chance that they put five and six together to get eleven (something Tommy said when Billy was complaining one time, when Billy gave him a confused face, Tommy explained, “because, well, magic, dude, not exactly straight forward enough to be two plus two). The superheroes of the world (even more so the mutant superheroes, and even more than that, the mutant superheroes that wielded magic) were not impressed by Wanda’s act of magic that created Billy and Teddy, as it had also destroyed a good chunk of New York, and knocked the entire eastern seaboard off the power grid for almost a month.

Billy didn’t talk to Teddy for two weeks after he ran out of the Pie Shop.

∏

To further complicate Billy’s life, the best and worst day of his existence happened to be the same day. The day Teddy said, “I’ll do it.”

The day was the worst in Billy’s so far sad existence, because he had to leave his best friend. All during the meeting Billy had felt Iron Man’s eyes on him, probably evaluating his features, the fact that his name was “Billy” commonly short for William, and the fact that he was the spitting image of the Maximoff Twins. While Wanda had never met Iron Man, Nick Furry had been a regular at the X-Mansion, often discussing hero business with Professor Xavier.

Billy knew that the moment Teddy said, “I’ll do it,” that he would never be able to speak to his best (and only) friend, ever again. He couldn’t stomach it. He ran. From the Pie Shop, from Teddy, from best thing that ever happened to him.

He’d run to the alley down the block and threw up behind a dumpster. He slid down the wall, snot and tears running down his face, muttering over and over “I want to go home. I want to go home. _I want to go home. Iwanttogohome. IwanttogohomeIwanttogohome Iwanttogohome._”

Then, in a flash of blue light, he was home, about a foot in the air, above his coffee table.

In every T.V. show and comic book, when that happened, the coffee table broke. Billy wondered what that said about his physique that he mostly just banged his elbow and jumped the shit out of him mother with his very masculine and not at all feminine shriek.

It was the best day in Billy’s so far pathetic life, because he finally got his powers (something that Tommy “Speed” Maximoff had beat him on by two whole years).

∏

Billy, Tommy, and Wanda had very slight glamours on twenty-four seven, that made it so that anyone who Wanda knew before, wouldn’t be able to remember exactly how they looked. Of course, this was a problem with empaths and telepaths, who didn’t need looks to remember people, as much as they used their emotional or mental signature. Wanda said it was just something that happened to empaths and telepaths, that they soon forgot what the outside looked like, their view completely skewed by the mentality of the person. Billy personally didn’t see why that was problem, didn’t everyone say it was what was inside that mattered?

To be fair to Wanda, though, that hadn’t become a problem until Billy got his powers.

∏

Ever since Billy had started avoiding Teddy, he’d had nothing to fill his afternoons with. Apparently, Billy was prone to easy addictions, as he had taken to flicking between FOX News and CNN to compare and contrast, sort of obsessively. At first, Wanda had insisted on training him, but well...they couldn’t seem to get Billy’s powers working again, except when he was anxious. Like last week with Kesler. He was still in the hospital, and Billy was suspended. That didn’t help with his sulking over Teddy.

He flicked from CNN as the commercials started, moving to FOX. He saw that it was just a piece about some superheroes, so he was about to change it when he realized who was on his screen. Teddy. Well, not Teddy, actually it was Hulkling, a persona that Teddy and Billy had created last summer, along with Billy’s Wiccan.

 _“Hulkling?” Billy asked, as he pinned the cloth on Teddy’s hip. Teddy was in his green form, standing on a box in the middle of Billy’s room. Since quitting the hero circuit, Wanda had become a locally successful seamstress and gave Billy her scraps for his role playing costumes.  
“Dude, yeah! Like that urban legend, the Hulk! That’ll put the fear of me into villains,” Teddy said, grinning ear to ear. Billy rolled his eyes. “Well what about you, Mister Asgardian. Or should I say, Ass Guardian.”_

 _Billy blushed and ducked his head. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe not Asgardian. Maybe something else.”_

 _“Like what? I mean, no offense, but it’s not like you have powers to base a name off of.”_

 _Billy continued to pin down Teddy’s side. “Like maybe Wiccan.” Like Scarlet Witch. Teddy looked at him for a moment, then smiled again and nodded._

But, yeah, Teddy on national television, fighting Doctor Doom. Christ. “I hope he’s okay. I hope he’s okay. _I hope he’s-_ ” The door bell rang.

“Billy! Can you get that?!” Wanda shouted from the kitchen, so Billy stood, moving from the living room to the front door.

When he opened the door, he was met by, well, a horde of people he’d never met before. “Mom! I’m pretty sure it’s for you!”

“Are you Billy Kaplan?” asked the bald man in the wheelchair, a smile that said, ‘I’m an innocent old man, disregard the, frankly, scary-ass people behind me.’

Billy shook his head, then sputtered, “Uh-Um-Yeah, uh.” This old man was messing with his thoughts. Well, emotions. Or someone in the group was. “C’mon in.”

The bald man was pushed into the house by a brown haired man wearing rose-tinted glasses. The following parade made Billy want to scratch his head in puzzlement. First was a short, hirsute man (seriously, shorter than Billy) with black hair and angry blue eyes, in a leather jacket. After Hairy, was a blue man, with a tail. Then a tall black woman with long shockingly white hair. The next to man had weirdly silver-black hair, but was average, otherwise, though his face was beautiful, fair, like an elf’s. Then a another woman with a streak of white in her bangs. Lastly was a completely average looking man, with brown hair and brown eyes.

Billy was about to close the door when he heard a ‘hmm’ from the doorstep. A younger girl, about thirteen, with long ginger hair, was standing there, staring at him, like he was a puzzle. “Um.” Billy didn’t know what to say. “You coming in, too?”

She finally moved, offering her hand. “I’m Hope.”

“Billy.”

“I know that! Silly! I found you!” Bobby frowned as the girl passed him. Found. Right.

Billy showed the eight to the living room, gesturing for them to sit down.

“Billy, who was at the door, ‘cause-” Tommy stopped as he saw the entourage in their sitting room. “Dude, why is their an Olympic skier in my chair?”

Billy turned to look at the elvenly pretty man sitting in Tommy old recliner he found on the side of the road a few weeks ago. Then he shrugged.

“Billy, do you even know who that is?!” Again, Billy shrugged at his twin. Then Billy had a face full of Tommy’s most earnest face. “You don’t even know your own community, man, no wonder you don’t have a boyfriend! That’s Jean-Paul Beaubier! The world famous skier slash writer slash mutant slash _awesome_!”

Billy saw that Average Guy was snickering and elbowing Jean-Paul in the side, who was blushing. “Dude. People are gonna think you’re the gay one, if you keep rambling about your little boy crushes.”

But Tommy was gone, up the stairs then back again, asking Jean-Paul for an autograph at hyper-speed, rambling about Olympics and something about Alpha Flight and Billy stopped listening.

“Coffee, anyone?” Billy said, motioning towards the kitchen. Hairy grunted and Blue smiled congenially and nodded. Sunglasses made a flippant hand gesture. Right. Three mugs.

“Thomas Maximoff! What have I told you about thundering up those stairs after I’ve vacuumed?” Wanda said, freezing in the doorway of the living room.

The entire room turned to Wanda, seemingly unsurprised by this ‘revelation.’

“What are you doing here?” She demanded. “William, how could you let these-these-people into our house!”

Billy and Tommy shared glances. “Mom. I-I don’t know. It’s-They were there and I let them in. They didn’t even ask, I just assumed-” Billy shook his head. Why had he let them in? Except…Jean-Paul was a mutant. That’s what Tommy said. And the blue one obviously was. And the girl, Hope, said ‘found’ like it was something to be proud over, not “Wow, I feel smart, we got lost in the urban jungle, and I found my way out” proud, but like it was something she was working at.

“You’re from the X-Force!” Billy concluded out loud. He looked at the bald man, “Which means you’re Charles Xavier.”

The man smiled. “Yes, and this is Scott Summers,” the guy with the glasses, “Logan,” hirsute guy, “Kurt Wagner,” blue guy, “Ororo Munroe,” the black woman, “Jean-Paul, as you know, Rogue,” the woman with the white streak in her hair, “and Bobby Drake,” average guy.

“Well, I want you out of my home!” Wanda said, pointing to the door. “What right do you have to come into my home!”

“Wanda. It’s so good to see that you didn’t die like the papers said,” Xavier said, rolling his chair up to him with what appeared (or would it be didn’t appear?) to be his mind. “What brings us here is your son, William, and his recently manifested powers. But I see now that young Thomas’s powers have presented themselves as well.”

“It’s none of your business whether or not Billy’s powers have manifested! He’s my boy, mine, and I won’t give him up to your damned school!” Billy looked at his mother’s face. She looked close to tears, and he had to imagine that this conversation mirrored one that happened years ago, when Xavier told her to give up her babies.

Xavier frowned and looked straight into Wanda’s eyes. “Wanda! He’s an omega level mutant! And _you_ can barely control _your_ own powers! He needs _guidance_!”

“And that’s what I plan to give him,” entered a new voice. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to the doorway where the fucking Avengers were standing. Teddy was standing there, hulked up, staring at Billy for the first time in weeks on the most stressful day of his life. How was this Billy’s life? Nick Furry moved into the room, nodding to Xavier then looking to Wanda. “Ms. Kaplan, or should I say Maximoff?

∏

Billy and Tommy were ushered upstairs to let the “big kids talk,” as Logan had said. Billy almost complained about Teddy being down there, but it wasn’t Teddy, it was Hulkling, so he held his tongue.

 _“Dammit_! I wanna hear what they’re _saying_!” Tommy emphasized, fell back onto Billy’s bed, laying spread eagle. Billy thought about pushing him off, “Dude, don’t even think about it, I’ll win,” but instead settled on sitting in his desk chair.

He wiggled the mouse to wake up his computer. He went into one folder, then another, typed a password, then some code, and, “There.”

“What?” Tommy asked, sitting up.

“A while ago, I hacked mom’s ridiculously paranoid video cameras,” Billy said, reaching up to turn on his speakers, “And here we go.”

“-both of the boys needs need training, Wanda, and it will be stressful enough without separating them,” Xavier was saying, “They should come to the school. Be with other children. Not...surrounded by government officials training them to be child soldiers.”

“What do they mean separating us?” Tommy asked. Billy shrugged and shushed his twin.

Fury’s mouth was a thin dash across his face. “Child soldiers? I’m not the one with the Danger Room, Xavier.”

Wanda’s hands were on her hips, and she looked directly at Te-Hulkling. She knew, Billy realized with a start, she’d seen Teddy when Billy was making his costume. “What do you say?” she asked, “You’re the new guy. Will they treat Billy right?”

“Dude, why the lack of Tommy love?” Tommy muttered, and Billy elbowed him in the stomach.

Teddy bit his lip, then said, “We’re kind of a gang of misfits, ma’am. Cap was born and bred in a government facility, Iron Man had an abusive childhood, Spidey’s the geekiest geek who ever geeked, and me, I mean, I’m not exactly what you’d call normal, and never fit quite right. From what I know about Billy - the dossier, I mean, that, um, we were given, he. He would fit in perfectly. Tommy, however, is, he makes himself fit in. He’d be better with the Professor.”

With everyone of Teddy’s words, Billy felt more anger coursing through him, until suddenly there was an all mighty bang and suddenly Billy was across the room from his now smoking computer. Tommy, however, hadn’t moved, and the front of him was black from smoke soot.

“Well, that’s new.”

∏

“The thing about steroids is that most people who take them, don’t think about the risk that comes along with them…” the teacher continues on, writing down said risks.

Usually around now (well, not usually, not any more, not since the Pie Shop) Teddy would be texting Billy, because he always forget that Billy got out of school an hour later than he did. Billy took his phone out of his pocket, staring at the front screen. A picture of Teddy holding up a freshly baked blueberry pie, wearing his mom’s frilliest pinkest apron.

Ever since Tommy had left for Xavier’s, Billy’s felt so alone. It’s true he had Wanda, bit it wasn’t the same. Not the same as a best friend or a twin, that always knew what to say.

On top of everything else, Billy’s powers keep exploding out of no where. He doesn’t know what to do, when it happens, bit last night, he just broke down crying. He hated his powers. If he didn’t have them, if Tommy didn’t have his, they would be together, at home, not separated by almost an entire state. Teddy wouldn’t be held two arms lengths away. Wanda wouldn’t be worried all the time.

Finally, the bell rang, and Billy exploded from his seat, running down the hall to his locker. When he got there, he quickly packed away his things to his bag and locker accordingly and blinked. When he opened his eyes he was in the Pie Shop, in the men’s bathroom. “Oh, God,” he muttered, crouching down so he could see if anyone was in the other stalls. There wasn’t, so Billy started focusing really hard on home. Home. Home! _Home!_

Nothing happened. Shit.

Okay, Billy could deal with this. This was something Billy could deal with. Easy, all he had to do was...was...This wasn’t something Billy could deal with. What was it that Fury had said? Fridays and weekends, and it was neither, so Teddy had to be working the front register.

Billy left the stall and opened the door a crack. He could see Teddy. Teddy. All wonderful in his Teddyness, bustling around the floor, behind the counter, back to the floor. Christ.

Okay. Billy could handle this. All he had to do was walk out the door. Just another customer leaving the store. No big deal. Teddy probably wouldn’t even notice him. It’ll be all good.

Except apparently Teddy had Billy senses, or something, because the second he stepped out of the bathroom, Teddy’s head shot up. He fumbled with the coffee pot for a second, placing it on the counter and all but running to Billy.

“Billy, you’re here! Why are you here? Are you still mad at me? Why are you mad at me? Because I know it’s not just the Tommy thing! Oh my god, I have so much to tell you!” Billy just let Teddy ramble for a second, before finally placing a hand over the taller boy’s mouth.

“Teddy. Not here,” Billy said.

Teddy looked at him for a moment, then back around the room, where people were staring at them out of the corner of their eyes. “Right. The loft?”

∏

Billy couldn’t remember the first time he was in Teddy’s room.

He vaguely remembers a time at the age of six, playing with X-Men action figures with the only two people in his life that mattered (besides Wanda) and eating grilled cheese without the crust. Over the years, as Billy and Tommy (and therefore Teddy and Tommy) grew apart and Tommy got other friends, what was BillyandTommyandTeddy became BillyandTeddy and BillyandTeddy became BillynTeddy which became BillyTeddy, until at some point they were some high bred Biddy or Telly or something, part of one another, completing one another.

“Okay, dude, so much to tell you! Like, Cap? Dude he’s so cool, like über intense and all that, but, man! And Iron Man, like he has this fucked sense of humor, and is just really fucked up some times, but he’s so cool. You’d love him, man, and Spidey! Dude, you and Spidey are like two peas from the same pod, man.”

Billy watched him ramble, content just to be in Teddy’s presence. He needed it more. He couldn’t have any more like the weeks previous. He couldn’t. If he’d learned anything in that time, it was that he couldn’t live without Teddy. His Ted. “I love you.”

Silence. Cold, hard, heartbreaking, silence.

“I mean. I missed you. You’re my best friend, and I love you, and I want to be on your team.”

Teddy’s confusion turned into a beaming smile.

Billy was so screwed.


End file.
